Almost Lover
by freakanature06
Summary: Gilbert is in love with his best friend Romano. But he's sure that the Italian doesn't feel the same for him. Or does he? Short songfic. PruMano Rating just in case.
1. Gilbert's Images

A/N: So... I wanted to write something for Christmas for my Romano. However, the song she sent me turned into this whole massive idea in my mind. So... here's the first installment. The song is "Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the song. Even though both are made of awesome.**

Chapter 1 - Gilbert's Images

_Your fingertips across my skin  
The palm trees swaying in the wind  
Images_

They had been hanging out for years upon years. Hell, Gilbert couldn't even remember the exact day that he had first met Lovino. Their brothers had been dating since who-knew-when, and it was inevitable that Gilbert and Lovino would meet eventually, especially when the relationship between Ludwig and Feliciano became much more serious.

All Gilbert really knew was that he had liked Lovino from the beginning. He was a spunky sort of person, and Gilbert appreciated people like that. However, it seemed like Lovino had hated him to begin with. There were spats and yelling and name-calling - simply all the typical things one grew to expect from the loud Italian, whether he liked you or not. But eventually, Gilbert's awesomeness had won him over and they became close friends within months of meeting each other.

Gilbert wasn't sure when it had become more than friendship, really. At first, they were content with bitching about their respective brothers and watching ridiculous TV shows and eating out at terrible restaurants just to laugh at how bad the food was. Hell, they even went to bars together and spied on the pretty girls.

But it did change. Gilbert found himself watching his companion more than the girls at the bars and more than the shows on the TV (which was just ridiculous! the TV was much too interesting to not pay attention to!). And just a few months ago, he suddenly realized that he had feelings for the brat that had somehow managed to become his closest friend.

And suddenly Gilbert was hypersensitive to everything that happened around Lovino. The Italian reached up to pluck the chick off of Gilbert's head one day and accidentally brushed the skin of his cheek, causing the Prussian to jump nearly a mile high in startlement.

"What the hell?" Lovino screeched, jumping back himself. And Gilbert didn't blush, dammit! He didn't! But he felt just the tiniest bit ashamed for freaking out so badly. But really! There had been a fucking electric _shock_ that ran through Lovino's fingertips into his face! He was sure of it!

Trying to laugh it off as if it hadn't even happened, Gilbert simply ruffled Lovino's hair - much to the Italian's disgust - and proclaimed that it nothing. After all, it _was_ nothing.

Wasn't it…?

And yet still he found himself staring at Lovino any time they were near each other. More than once, Gilbert found himself reaching out towards the younger man to touch him, only to draw himself away at the very last second, earning puzzled looks from Lovino.

Of course, Gilbert knew that Lovino would eventually figure out that things had changed slightly - for the Prussian at least - but he did his best to put that off. After all, somehow Lovino had become his best friend. Perhaps because they both knew the pain of being overshadowed by their younger brothers. Gilbert didn't know.

All he knew was that he had inexplicably fallen in love with the Italian.

_You sang me Spanish lullabies  
The sweetest sadness in your eyes  
Clever trick_

The real shift came one day when the two of them were lounging around after a meal. Gilbert had suggested watching a movie (because it allowed him the chance to watch Lovi instead - a newfound passtime that Gilbert enjoyed immensely) but the younger man wasn't in the mood for movies.

"Well what do you want to do then?" the Prussian demanded in exasperation, peeved that his plans had been foiled.

A shrug was his response, followed by a haughty, "You're so goddam awesome. Come up with something."

At least Lovino admitted that he was awesome…

Yet, despite all his awesomeness, the most entertaining thing Gilbert could come up with was to watch Lovino. And so he set to that, feigning a thoughtful expression. To cover himself, he threw out suggestions that he knew Lovino would hate.

"Bowling?" he finally offered after many failed suggestions.

"Jesus, Gilbert, are you even trying to think of something? How lame are you?!"

While this comment hurt the Prussian's pride, he shrugged it off. "You come up with something then," he challenged.

Huffing, Lovino stood up and stormed towards his room. "Screw it. I'm going to bed." The door slammed solidly behind him.

And as he hadn't told Gilbert to leave, the older man decided that he could stay.

Maybe in Lovino's bed.

However, as he moved towards the room to commence the picking on of his friend, the soft clear tones of a song met his ears and he stopped, pressing his head to the door.

It was there. A quiet voice singing. And in Spanish too. Gilbert had never heard Lovino sing, so it came as a shock to him when he opened the door a crack - very silently! - to discover that it was the Italian singing.

And Lovino was crying.

_Well, I never wanna see you unhappy  
I thought you'd want the same for me_

Immediately, Gilbert knew why. Lovino had been in a very serious relationship with Gilbert's Spanish friend, Antonio, up until a few years previously. Until Antonio had called the whole thing off without so much as an explanation. Of course, Antonio had always been a flighty individual like that.

But obviously Lovino was still hurting.

As much as Gilbert wanted to comfort the usually surly young man, he couldn't bring himself to do it. After all, this was a very private moment. Not that he usually respected private moments, but… Well, for Lovino he could.

Of course, when Lovino announced that he and the Spaniard were suddenly getting back together two days later, Gilbert regretted not having gone into the room.

He loved Lovi. But the Italian was so happy - well… he wasn't swearing as much… that meant he was happy - that Gilbert kept his mouth shut and acted pleased for his friend, the man he loved.

_Goodbye my almost lover  
Goodbye my hopeless dream  
I'm trying not to think about you  
Can't you just let me be?_

So long, my luckless romance  
My back is turned on you  
Should've known you'd bring me heartache  
Almost lovers always do

And Gilbert decided to let Lovino go.


	2. Romano's Images

A/N: This was about the point where the story took off on me. Ridiculous thing keeps twisting and turning in ways I didn't expect. _

Chapter 2 - Romano's Images

_We walked along a crowded street  
You took my hand and danced with me  
Images_

Something was seriously wrong with Gilbert.

Lovino had first noticed it a couple weeks ago - about the time that he had gotten back together with Antonio - but today it was more evident than before. Maybe because this was the first time they had been together without Antonio since he and the Italian had started going out again.

Speaking of that… Well, it had been something of a surprise to Lovino himself, so he really didn't blame his friend for being shocked by the development. Really, the proposition had come out of nowhere from Antonio. And even though Lovino had been hurt by the man and was completely over him (really! He was!), he had agreed to it almost instantly.

Because Antonio was comfortable. Someone that he knew well enough that he could easily let go of the silly crush he had developed.

And it _was _silly, after all. Really! What kind of crazy person would fall for Gilbert Beilschmidt? Only the craziest!

Gilbert seemed to be distancing himself today. Which wasn't that surprising because Antonio had turned into a fairly jealous person and had expressed a serious dislike for Gilbert's penchant to hang all over Lovino. But the Italian just missed the closeness.

Even though he kept telling himself that he shouldn't.

"What's wrong with you?" he finally demanded as Gilbert pulled away from him for about the dozenth time.

Gilbert stared at him blankly. "Wrong?" he asked dully. "Nothing. Just keeping my distance like a good boy."

Lovino scowled. "Bullshit," he commented.

Shrugging, Gilbert looked to the street ahead. They were on their way to their usual bar for the night. "Tell that to your boyfriend."

"I don't like it any more than you do," Lovino said heatedly before he could stop himself.

The stare that Gilbert gave him made the Italian cringe. "So why are you with him?" If it hadn't been his _best friend_ (really! That's all he was!) demanding, Lovino would have blown up.

But it _was_ Gilbert. And Lovino couldn't very well say, 'Because I could never have you' and so he shrugged instead.

"He's safe." It was a pitiful response and Lovino hated himself for giving it.

Gilbert snorted. "Safe. Until he hurts you again."

Lovino's angry reply was halted when the Prussian waved a hand in his typical gesture of apology. "Never mind," he sighed. "Forget I said anything."

But Lovino couldn't forget the hurt look on Gilbert's face or the strange, unrecognizable tone in his voice.

The bar eased a lot of their awkwardness. Even to the point that Gilbert dragged the Italian onto the dance floor. It was a wonderful feeling to be dancing with Gilbert, even though Lovino complained the entire time about not being a dancer and dammit Gilbert, let go already! But he felt happier than he had in a while.

That was as good as it got, though. Antonio showing up ruined Lovino's momentary euphoria.

_And when you left, you kissed my lips  
You told me you would never, never forget  
These images_

There was a lot of yelling then. Mostly between Antonio and Lovino, though a good chunk of it was Antonio yelling at Gilbert too. The entire time, Gilbert remained perfectly silent, simply staring at Lovino with a look that clearly said, 'See what you've chosen?!'

And Lovino hated himself for being with Antonio again. Because the last thing he wanted was the lose his friend.

Finally, Antonio seemed to strike a nerve and the Prussian snapped.

"Fine," he said with a huff. "I won't come near him again. Happy?"

Lovino was _not_ happy at all, but Antonio obviously was.

Gilbert stalked to the bar and grabbed his things. Lovino couldn't stop himself from running outside after him.

"Gilbert, wait!"

The Prussian spun on the spot and fixed Lovino with a hard glare. "Why?" he countered angrily and Lovino found himself actually terrified by the glint in those red eyes. "Are you gonna leave him?!"

"N-no, I…" Lovino started, cowering from his best friend.

But he was interrupted by a heavy sigh and he watched as Gilbert deflated before his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lovi, I can't…"

Lovino was struck dumb by the fact that Gilbert had just apologized to him. So struck, in fact, that he couldn't move, even when he suddenly felt lips pressed to his own for a brief moment.

_Well, I never wanna see you unhappy  
I thought you'd want the same for me_

"I can't be your friend anymore." The Prussian was suddenly so far away that Lovino was positive the kiss was his own wishful thinking. "Goodbye, Lovi."

The young Italian could only stare and cry as the man he loved walked away, sobs wracking his body until he fell to his knees on the pavement and curled in on himself.

_Goodbye my almost lover  
Goodbye my hopeless dream  
I'm trying not to think about you  
Can't you just let me be?_

So long, my luckless romance  
My back is turned on you  
Should've known you'd bring me heartache  
Almost lovers always do

And he hated himself for it.


	3. An Outside Perspective

A/N: And for some reason this chapter was really, really easy for me to write. Perhaps because I was writing from Italy's point of view mostly. I love writing Italy. XD

Btw! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I love writing this story, and I'm so glad that people are enjoying it. ~3 You guys are the best!!!

Chapter 3 - An Outside Perspective

_I cannot go to the ocean  
I cannot drive the streets at night  
I cannot wake up in the morning  
Without you on my mind_

"Peeeh? Well, alright. I hope he's okay, Ludwig." Feliciano's face brightened in a sickening way (at least, that's how Lovino saw it) as he cradled the phone close to his ear. "I love you too! Alright… byyye!"

Pretending like he hadn't' been listening, Lovino turned his attention back to the movie he and his brother had been watching before they had been so rudely interrupted by the phone. A sulky pout was already in place on the older Italian's lips when Feliciano bounce (yes, literally bounced…) back into the room. Lovino raised his eyes and glared at his younger brother.

"What the hell did the potato bastard want?" he demanded, making sure to look peeved.

Feliciano sat down next to him and immediately started cuddling into his brother, much to said brother's dismay. But Lovino had learned not to try to fight the younger Italian off because Feli always wound up in tears and then Lovino felt guilty and… well, it just wasn't worth it.

So instead of griping, Lovino simply scowled and wrapped his arm around his brother. And he would never, _ever_ admit that he enjoyed these comfortable moments with Feliciano. He was sure the bubbly man knew anyway…

"He's worried about Gilbert, so he decided to call off our date tonight, but I think it's alright 'cause you've been so distant and this way I can… Ve, ve, Lovi? What's wrong?"

The moment the Prussian's name was mentioned, Lovino had stiffened considerably. Actually, he was surprised it had taken Feliciano so long to notice, as he was sure his face had twisted into a nasty grimace. Then again, Feliciano was the tiniest bit _dense_.

Lovino could feel his heartbeat speeding up as his mind reeled. Something was wrong with Gilbert. What, though? Was he sick?! Trying to sound casual, he asked, "Why's he worried about the idiot?"

For the briefest of moments, a knowing look entered Feli's eyes and Lovino questioned whether his brother was as dense as he had thought. But then the typical expression of blank contentment took over the younger Italian's face again and Lovino was sure he had imagined the look.

"Well…" Feli started, drawing out the pause much longer than necessary in Lovino's opinion. "Ludwig said that Gilbert's barely left his room in two weeks! And he's always drunk too, and he won't tell Ludwig why, but Ludwig's sure it's because he liked this guy but he got turned down and… Peeeh! Lovi!"

Feliciano fell over onto the couch as his brother quite suddenly stood up, looking frantic. "No, no… it couldn't be… wishful thinking." He was muttering aloud, but he didn't care anymore.

Two weeks. That was how long it had been since Gilbert had walked away from him at the bar. Two weeks, one day, sixteen hours and… No! He hadn't been counting, dammit! It had just pissed him off so much that the time was burned into his memory, that was all!

"What's wishful thinking?" Feli was demanding with a pout. "What's going on, Lovi? Tell me!!"

Lovino shook his head, trying to calm his mind and failing miserably. "Nothing," he grumbled.

But that knowing look had entered Feliciano's eyes again as he watched his brother pacing back and forth in front of him. After a moment of silence in which he watched the older Italian tearing himself apart from the inside, Feli spoke up, in a tone much quieter and gentler than was usual for him.

"Ve, ve, Lovi… I think you broke Gilbert's heart, you know."

The sudden silence that enveloped the room was palpable. Lovino had come to a dead stop, his fists clenched at his sides, his heart beating so hard that he was sure he was about to keel over. Feli had said it. The very thing that Lovino had been trying to deny in his own mind. It was the only logical explanation. Gilbert loved him. But… Lovino had been so _sure_ that he never could! Lovino himself was such a terrible, needy person that someone as egotistical as Gilbert could _never _feel that way for him.

And yet… he did, didn't he?

_So you're gone and I'm haunted  
And I bet you are just fine  
Did I make it that easy  
To walk right in and out of my life?_

Letting out a perplexed and frustrated sigh, Ludwig beat his fist on the door of his brother's room. "_Bruder_," he called, in a quiet but firm voice. "You have to eat, which means you have to come out sooner or later. So why don't you come have dinner? I've made… well, pasta, but it's better than nothing."

Really, Ludwig should have been on his date with Feliciano right now already. But Gilbert was being such a sorry pain in the ass. And apparently Lovino was giving his brother the same trouble, but in a completely different way. From the way Feliciano told it, Lovino was moping around the house and kept snapping at Antonio to get the hell out whenever the Spaniard even showed up for a few moments. Technically they were still dating, but with the way Lovino was treating his boyfriend, it didn't look like that would be going on for much longer.

And Ludwig couldn't help but be happy about that. Because he was certain that the two of them were the reason that Gilbert was so upset right now. It had been years since the last time he had seen his brother react so badly to the way someone was treating him, and that time it had been because of abuse. So what exactly had happened to make him lock himself in his room like this?

Ludwig continued to pound his fist against the door, hoping that if he were insistent enough, the older man would come out of his room, at least for a few moments. He always seemed to wait until the middle of the night to get his beer, so Ludwig hadn't actually seen him in days. "Please, Gilbert. This is ridicu-- " Quite suddenly, he had to stop pounding or he was going to hit his brother in the face.

Staring at that face, Ludwig felt a tug of sympathy. Gilbert was a naturally pale person, but he looked positively ashen. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them, and his clothes were disheveled and dirty, as if he had been wearing them for more than a few days. _'Which he probably has,'_ Ludwig reminded himself silently. Not only that, but Gilbert absolutely reeked of alcohol. Ludwig could even smell it from a few feet away and he actually nearly gagged on the scent.

"The hell d'you want, West?" was the grumpy reply that Ludwig received for all his efforts.

Now that he had finally managed to get the older man out of his room, Ludwig wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. Deftly, he reached out and grabbed his inebriated brother's arm and tugged him towards the kitchen, ignoring Gilbert's protests completely. Once in the kitchen, he shoved several glasses of water on the Prussian, along with a few plates of food.

After arguing against the treatment for a few minutes to no avail, Gilbert tried to escape. However, as that proved futile as well (Ludwig kept catching even his sneakiest maneuvers, which he supposed weren't really sneaky with the state his mind was in, but they were still awesome!), Gilbert finally conceded to sit until Ludwig had forced enough food and water into him to satiate a good number of people. Gilbert didn't actually mind that, though. He hadn't eaten properly in days, and the water actually tasted better than the beer he'd been chugging. Which just should not happen!

Once certain that his brother wasn't going to try to run back into his room again, Ludwig took a seat and watched the older man eat. After a few minutes, he spoke up. "I don't know what's wrong with you, _bruder_, but if you don't tell me, I can't help you."

Then Gilbert did something that Ludwig had never seen him do: he looked sulky. His shoulders slumped and he stared moodily at his food. "You can't help me anyway, West," he grumbled, poking at what was left of the pasta on his plate. "It doesn't matter anyway. He's happy."

"He?" Ludwig latched onto the topic immediately. At least it was some indication of what Gilbert was thinking, which was more than he had gotten in two weeks. "Who is he?"

Gilbert shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His head was starting to hurt, despite all the pasta and water he'd been shoving down his throat. Bringing a hand up, he rubbed his temple. "Does it really matter?" he asked a little peevishly.

At getting only a stern glare from Ludwig, Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Of course. Geez. Fine. Lovino. It was silly, alright? And he's great for Antoniot. I'm happy for them, really."

Eyes widening slightly, Ludwig opened his mouth to tell his brother that Lovino was not, in fact, happy with Antonio, according to Feliciano anyway. He was going to try and reassure Gilbert on some level. But at that moment, there was a knock on the door that interrupted his attempt to console his brother.

With a grimace, the younger man stood up and muttered an apology and a quick promise that he would be right back before leaving the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gilbert slump forward even more and then get up to go to the fridge. _'Getting another beer,'_ Ludwig thought dryly. He would just take the beer from his brother when he got back from answering the door.

Ludwig was perfectly ready to tell whoever was at the door to come back another time, because he had more important things to do. But when he opened the door, he was stopped in his tracks, staring at the Italian standing on the front porch.

There were a few moments of silence, and then Lovino cleared his throat and glared at Ludwig. "Is your brother home, potato bastard? I've gotta talk to him."


	4. The Clearer Picture

A/N: This is the final chapter! I'll be writing some smut for it as well, but I'll be putting that as another story entirely, so I don't have to up the rating on this just for that. ^^ Anyway, I hope you enjoy the conclusion to Almost Lover

Chapter 4 - The Clearer Picture

_Goodbye my almost lover  
Goodbye my hopeless dream  
I'm trying not to think about you  
Can't you just let me be?_

Ludwig couldn't seem to figure out what exactly to say in response to the Italian standing on his front porch. A part of him wanted to let Lovino in and hope that he was here for a very good reason, but the more cynical part of his being somehow knew that there was no good news to be had with the young Italian. Screwing his face up into a stern look, Ludwig opened his mouth to tell Lovino to leave.

But the Italian was quicker to the punch than he was. "Look, just a few minutes. There's… there's been a terrible misunderstanding." His tone was actually meek, and that was what threw the German off the most. Never had Lovino spoken to him like this before. Swallowing back his instincts, Ludwig nodded and opened the door a little further to let Lovino in.

"I'm going back to my room, West… bring me some beer lat--"

Gilbert, who had been walking through the family room back towards his room, stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Lovino, who couldn't help but stare right back. Gilbert looked worse than the Italian could have imagined and he felt his heart constricting at the sight.

After a few moments of silence, Gilbert's face darkened and he moved towards his room again. "What the hell are you doing here, Lovi? Won't Antonio be angry that you're here? Go hang out with your boyfriend."

"I broke up with him."

The curt response caught the Prussian off guard and he stopped in his doorway, turning around only to find that Lovino was standing directly in front of him. Holy shit! When did he move?? Flailing a little, Gilbert stepped back and suddenly found that he had an Italian wrapped around his middle, hugging him tightly.

"Lovino, what…?"

"Idiot," Lovino replied, squeezing Gilbert tightly. "Stupid, idiotic idiot!"

While Gilbert was used to being called names, he tended to like knowing _why_ he was being called an idiot. Standing tense in the hug, he tried not to look at Lovino, staring at his brother, who simply shrugged in response to the look. "Why am I an idiot?" he finally asked, drawing in a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Lovino didn't like him like that. He shouldn't be reacting to the younger man hugging him and moving up his body, or those lips on his…

Wait, what?!?!

Gilbert blinked in some mild confusion as he finally came to the realization that Lovino was kissing him. He could see Ludwig running out of the room and was trying to figure out how to respond to it when Lovino pulled away, flushing darkly and looking very embarrassed with himself.

"That's why you kissed me that night you left, isn't it? You love me." While Lovino sounded sure of himself, he looked more than a little unsure or… perhaps disbelieving. As if he thought that Gilbert could never feel that way about him.

And, Gott help him, Gilbert couldn't lie. "Yeah. But you had Antonio. I know how you feel about h--"

"I went back to Antonio because I thought I couldn't have you, you retarded cabbage head!" Lovino retorted, cutting Gilbert off for what seemed like the hundredth time today. "He was safe. I was scared." Pouting, Lovino looked away. "Like always…"

Gilbert was busy waiting for his mind to catch up with what was going on. Obviously, Lovino had figured a lot more out about what was going on than the Prussian had yet. Finally, Gilbert grabbed his friend's shoulders and pushed him away slightly, not wanting to let his hopes rise until he had the full story.

"But I heard you singing in Spanish to yourself. You're just lying to yourself… Whoa, Lovi… you okay?"

Lovino's face had gone such a deep shade of red that Gilbert thought he was going to pass out. The Italian sputtered for a few moments before looking away. "You _heard that_???" he demanded in the most embarrassed tone that Gilbert had heard from him yet.

"Well, yeah. I was standing by the door. I thought about cheering you up with my awesome, but…" Gilbert was trying to keep up his normal bravado, but it was failing just a little bit.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lovino started shaking softly. "I was… s-singing to myself… because of you. I… I was trying to… to stop thinking about you. So I sang something that Tonio u-used to sing me when I was y-young…"

Gilbert stared for a few moments. And his mind worked out a few facts.

Firstly, Lovino liked him.

Second, he was in love with Lovino.

Third, he was standing outside of his room with the man he had loved for some time and had thought unobtainable, and had just found out that he _was_, in fact, obtainable.

And with those three things in mind, Gilbert came to a sudden conclusion:

He was a completely idiot, just like Lovino had said. Because he wasn't kissing the Italian yet.

Of course, once he had let a wide grin spread over his face, Gilbert quickly remedied that problem.

_So long, my luckless romance  
My back is turned on you  
Should've known you'd bring me heartache  
Almost lovers always do_


End file.
